


Outside the Bars

by Mendax



Series: The Bars [2]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mendax/pseuds/Mendax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Between the Bars" by randi2204.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outside the Bars

JD did manage to fall into an exhausted, restive sleep eventually but was jolted awake not many hours later by the squeal of a temperamental horse out in the street. He let his head sink back into the pillow with a sigh. No chance was he gettin’ back to sleep now, with the morning sun coming in through the window and both his belly and his bladder tellin’ him it was time to be up and out of bed.

At least it was early enough Ezra wasn’t likely to be in the saloon yet. _Specially not with how late he was up last night,_ JD thought, and instantly felt his face flush with heat. _Dang it. Ain’t gonna be able to pretend nothin’ if I keep doin’ that!_ Chris usually wasn’t in the saloon this time of day, but there was always the chance….

He steeled himself with a deep breath and swung his way out across the street, determinedly not looking in the direction of the jail as he made his way to the saloon. Thankfully, only Buck and a couple ranch hands were eatin’ their breakfast there. JD signaled Inez for breakfast and then slid into the chair that Buck had obligingly pushed back from the table with his foot.

“Mornin’, Buck,” he said.

"What's wrong with you, boy?"

JD jerked his head up in a panic. _How did he_ — no, wait. It was probably just because he looked riled, not because Buck actually knew anything. "Whadya mean?" he asked cautiously.

Buck looked at him funny over a forkful of potatoes. “Kid, you look like you ain’t slept in a dog’s age. You got circles under yer eyes blacker'n a crow in a coal mine. Thought I told you to take yerself a little nap yesterday.”

JD glared at him. “I did take a stupid nap. Kept me up all night.”

Buck smiled up at Inez as she slid a plate onto the table, fragrant with spices like nothing JD had ever had back east, then, after she left, returned his attention to JD and winked. “Well now, that ain’t a problem. You just gotta find yerself somethin’ fun to do while you’re … up all night.”

The amount of innuendo that Buck managed to slide into those last three words had JD blushing all over again, irritated and embarrassed by what he _had_ done … or more accurately, what he had _seen_.

Of course, Buck picked up on his flush and grinned wide, leaning forward to swing a sideways fist at him, clipping him lightly across the arm. He lowered his voice into what passed, for Buck, into confidentiality but could probably still be heard clear across the saloon. “Course, it’s always better to have some company for that ‘something better,’ but a man’s havin’ trouble sleepin’, he might just have to take matters into his own hand, ain’t that right Kid?”

“Aw, c'mon Buck, I’m tryin’ to eat breakfast here,” JD groused. But even he could tell it didn’t come out quite right.

Buck’s pause showed he’d heard it too. “You know, JD, you got somethin’ weighin’ on your mind, sometimes it helps to talk about it.”

Dang Buck anyhow. JD looked over to see that those dancing blue eyes had the soft look that always lurked behind the boisterous teasing. If Buck had just asked him yesterday, instead of advising him to take that stupid nap, JD could’ve told him honestly he didn’t know why he wasn’t sleepin’ well. But today … He ducked his head down over his plate and poked at its contents. “Nothin’s wrong,” he muttered.

Even not looking, he could sense the way Buck leaned back in his chair, could feel the level, appraising look and hunched his shoulders, trying to hide away from it. If he couldn’t even fool Buck, there was no way he’d be able to get past Chris or Ezra. “Everything goin’ all right between you an’ Casey?”

JD rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You know, Buck, not everything’s got to do with girls.”

He hadn’t thought about what he’d said until he heard it. It certainly _didn’t_ have to do with girls, and that was the whole problem, wasn’t it? Suddenly feeling nauseated by the rich aroma of the food before him, he shoved back from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I gotta go,” he said. He barely remembered to tip his hat to Inez on his way out the door.

 _Great. Just great,_ he thought as he stomped down the street toward the livery. _Now Buck knows there’s somethin’ wrong, and he’s like a dog with a bone. Hell, he’ll probably tell Chris too. Can’t keep his big mouth shut._

Inside the livery, he hung his coat and hat on a hook, rolled up his sleeves, grabbed his saddle and set to it with saddle soap and a rag. He just hoped the familiar motions of cleaning and conditioning tack — the warm, earthy smells of soap, neatsfoot oil and leather, hay and horses that always meant _home_ to him — would soothe him some. Especially since he wasn’t doing a very good job of pretending nothing had happened.

Buck was bad enough, always chasin’ after just about every girl in town, parkin’ his boots by more beds than JD wanted to think on. Sleepin’ with all sorts of women. JD didn’t see how he could. Not when he thought about how he felt just _kissin’_ Casey. But then, he knew him and Casey were different.

And he knew men and women got up to all kinds of things together that made him feel both embarrassed and as queasy-excited as a gunfight, but in a nicer way. He even knew, or had heard anyway, that sometimes two fellas on a trail, when there was no ladies around for a real long time, might....

But Chris and Ezra? He knew Chris had that real pretty whore down in Purgatorio. And even if Ezra didn’t seem likely to pay for it, there had to be girls who would like his fancy clothes and pretty way of talking. It wasn't like either of them was ugly, or smelled bad, or didn't have any teeth or somethin'. Either of them could get a girl. Why wasn’t that enough? Why’d they have to go and want to do ... that kind of thing ... with _each other?_

Eventually his tack was gleaming darkly and supple to touch, his horse curried and brushed to a shine, and JD couldn’t find any other excuse for staying. He was no closer to understanding. In fact, some of his embarrassment had started making way for downright anger when he thought about it. But he had a better hold of himself now, and wished he hadn’t run into Buck so early. Maybe Buck would believe him if he just passed it off as not enough sleep.

Buck wasn’t out on the boardwalk or in the saloon anymore. JD’s stomach rumbled at him, reminding him that he’d only had a few forkfuls of breakfast, so he headed over to the Gem. This time he did look at the jail, and felt his feet drag as a blush crawled its way up to his hairline. He was gonna have to stop doing that. Wasn’t like he could avoid the jail for long.

The dining room at the Gem was almost empty this late in the morning, but Ezra caught his eye from his table by the window and nodded to him. JD stuttered to a stop as his stomach sank. Why hadn’t he looked through the window before bargin’ in here? _Not that lookin’ in windows did me any good last night,_ he thought sickly.

He couldn’t avoid it now though. Trying his hardest to keep his expression normal, he went over and sat down with Ezra, who looked as perfectly neat and composed as always and greeted him over his breakfast with a “good morning” and a smile that looked genuinely cheerful. JD thought he might know why, and then mentally cussed himself. Why couldn’t he just stop thinking about it?

Mrs. Polk came over and took JD’s order. After she left, JD looked out the window fitfully, and at the table, and at his hands, which he realized he hadn’t cleaned the oil off of well enough to be presentable at the table. He tucked them guiltily into his lap, and accidentally caught Ezra’s eyes before jerking his own gaze back out the window. He felt like Ezra could read his thoughts right on his face even if he did seem to be paying more attention to his breakfast than to JD.

“You have the appearance of a young man with a great deal on his mind,” Ezra said finally, sounding, as he usually did with such a statement, as if he were secretly hoping JD wouldn’t take him up on the implied offer.

“Just haven’t been sleepin’ too good,” JD muttered as his food was set before him. The sight and smell reminded him how hungry he was, and he dug in with a relish.

“A common symptom of both the guilty conscience — or so I have been told, not being prone to that particular malady myself — and the prospective bridegroom. I do hope you are considering becoming affianced to Miss Wells, not robbing the bank.”

For a moment JD felt only the familiar exasperation. He spoke around a mouthful of eggs. “I ain’t proposin’ to Casey. ...Or robbin’ the bank,” he added hastily.

“Well, I am glad to hear it,” Ezra said dryly. “I can assure you from personal experience that the accommodations in our little jail leave much to be desired.”

JD gaped. _Did he just_ — the sound of the jail bed obscenely groaning in protest under the crashing weight of two solid bodies echoed in his ears and his face flooded with panicked, embarrassed heat.

Ezra smiled at him, dimples and all, and waved a piece of toasted bread. “Now, now. Don’t fret. I can assure you I bear no grudge for your involvement in my ... ignominious incarceration. Besides, that was a long time ago, and though rustic to be sure, ours is by no means the worst of the breed. Why, I remember a time in Mississippi when I was detained — quite wrongfully, of course, as I was entirely innocent — in a cell the squalor of which...”

Ezra continued his tale, and JD could finally draw a breath. At last he felt on familiar ground; he was so used to Buck’s stories by now that he could eat, nod sympathetically at all the right places, and still give his thoughts room to race. _Of course that’s what he meant, stupid,_ he chided himself. But maybe it would be okay. Ezra didn’t seem to have any suspicions, and JD started feeling pretty good about how he’d handled himself. Heck, if he could fool Ezra, even Chris might not figure out what he’d seen.

He and Ezra left together, having finished around the same time, given Ezra’s storytelling combined with those fussy manners of his. Chris and Buck were down the street, sitting outside the saloon playing checkers. It was only because he was watchin' so close and still trying to reconcile the Chris he knew with the one from last night that he saw Chris's hat tip just a mite toward them. Buck’s gaze followed the slight motion, and when he saw them, he stopped jawin'. JD's heart sank.

He trailed behind Ezra a little, watching to see how he and Chris would be after ... well. But Ezra just walked right past with a brief tip of his hat and a polite, “Gentlemen.”

“Ezra,” Buck acknowledged him with a sunny smile.

Chris didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at him. Just nodded his head the slightest bit and leaned forward to make a play on the board as Ezra disappeared into the saloon behind him.

JD drifted up the stairs onto the boardwalk, purely confused. It was like nothin’ was different between Chris and Ezra than it had ever been, but he knew that wasn’t true. He leaned against a post by the checkerboard and frowned in the direction Ezra had gone.

“Everything all right, JD?”

He started guiltily, looking over to see Chris leaning back in his chair. He had a little bit of a smile playing around his lips, and his eyes had an amused, conspiratorial sparkle as they flickered, almost too quick to see, toward Buck and then back to him.

Relief flooded him. Buck _had_ been mother-henning about him to Chris, but Chris was clearly on his side. Just the thought made JD stand up a little straighter with a smile of his own. “Everything’s _fine,”_ he said emphatically, rolling his eyes a little.

Chris dragged his hand over his mouth as if pulling the smile from the corners of his lips. He glanced over at Buck with a shrug. “Everything’s fine,” he repeated.

Buck threw his hands up into the air with a disgusted expression.

It wasn’t so bad after that. Chris and Buck continued what JD discovered was a very desultory series of checkers. They talked about rumors of a gang of bandits terrorizing parts of western Texas, and the one-armed stagecoach robber. Buck reminisced in that dreamy, appreciative way of his about a show he’d seen once, where the girls did things JD had a hard time picturing and didn’t bother tryin’, since he didn’t believe it anyway. At one point Chris got up and went into the saloon, coming back with mugs of beer for the three of them. JD sipped at his slowly, never quite sure how much he liked the stuff but glad to be included.

It seemed impossible. Chris was _Chris_ , for cryin’ out loud. Now that JD was standing here on the shaded boardwalk, letting the slow-moving conversation flow over him and contributing to it when he could, now that he was looking at the familiar lines of Chris’s face, the alertness he held even when relaxed, the way he always seemed to epitomize what _the West_ had meant to JD back before he came here, what it still meant to him now, it seemed more and more unreal. Easier than he’d thought it would be to believe the lie he’d tried to tell himself last night: He’d imagined it all.

He didn’t have those notions about Ezra. But even after Ezra joined them and started playing some kind of in-hand solitaire that JD couldn’t figure out, while complaining about the town, the weather, days in which the stage didn’t pass through, the quality of liquor, and their “paltry recompense” without seeming to disrupt the meandering flow of conversation between Chris and Buck, it seemed ... not too hard to pretend. Especially since Chris and Ezra didn’t so much as look at each other beyond what was normal.

Eventually JD noticed Chris’s gaze drifting over Buck’s shoulder with some regularity, but when he looked, all he could see was one of the local farmers, Mr. Gunderman, loading goods from the mercantile into his wagon. JD didn’t see what had drawn Chris’s attention about him, but sure enough, when he finished, he headed over toward them.

Gunderman was a grizzled, barrel-chested bachelor who, when he was not working, kept his thumbs hooked perpetually in his suspenders and always looked everywhere but at you when he spoke. It used to make JD uncomfortable until he decided it was just ‘cuz Gunderman was constantly on the lookout against a lady walking by; he always had a large plug of tobacco tucked into his lip but wouldn’t spit if there was a lady present.

He stopped a few feet shy of their group and shifted his feet uncomfortably. It occurred to JD that he was intimidated by them, and he stood up a little taller and felt his chest swell a bit.

Chris looked over at him, friendly-like as Chris went. “Mr. Gunderman,” he said.

Gunderman nodded a greeting that included all of them before running his thumbs up and down his suspenders and shooting a thin stream of brown juice over the edge of the boardwalk onto the dust below. “Been some fellas camped out in the rocks just past the north edge of my place.”

“Reckon they’re trouble?” Chris asked.

Gunderman shrugged. “Probably nothin’. Could be huntin’. Could be restin’ up afore goin’ through the pass.”

“How long they been there?”

Gunderman passed his chaw from one side of his mouth to the other and spat with particular energy. “Not sure. Noticed ‘em three days ago. Reckon they’re just huntin’.”

“Could be,” Chris answered. “We’ll take a look.”

After Gunderman left them, Chris jumped two of Buck’s pieces and scooped them off the board. Rolling them within his palm, he scanned the three of them. “Well? Any volunteers?”

“I’ll go,” JD said immediately with a feeling of relief. Getting out of town for the day and having time to think would be a blessing, and the activity might make it easier for him to sleep that night.

“Good,” Chris smiled sharply. “You’n Ezra can go.”

JD felt his eyes widen. Breakfast had been bad enough; hours on the trail with Ezra? Before he could stammer out a protest though, Ezra cut in. “I do not recall volunteering,” he said frostily.

“Reckon that’s cause you never have,” Chris answered.

If Buck had said it, it would’ve been funny. A friendly tease. But Chris’s voice had an edge to it that sure didn’t make JD want to laugh.

“Surely Mister Dunne is capable of ascertaining the intentions of a small hunting party.” Ezra’s voice dripped with disdain, and JD stiffened some. As if he couldn’t handle it on his own!

“Could be trouble. You gonna send a man out there with no backup?”

“Well, shoot, I’ll ride out with ‘im.” Buck cut into the rising tension as if he wasn’t even aware of it. “Gunderman’s place ain’t so far out; we can be there an’ back just in time for the evenin’ to start to get interesting.”

Chris didn’t so much as look at Buck even though he was talkin’ to him; his eyes were on Ezra, all lit up with casual threat. “You helped Nathan out at the O’Toole’s. Reckon it’s Ezra’s turn.”

Buck glanced over at Ezra, and you could almost hear his _Sorry, old hoss, but you know how he gets._ They did that, JD realized: skirted or accommodated or commiserated on one side or the other with the friction that always seemed to be there between Chris and Ezra. He’d often wished the two of ‘em could just find a way to stop butting heads.

Ezra returned Chris’s gaze with a flat look of his own before his deck disappeared and he stood, straightening his cuffs with fastidious attention. “Far be it from me to shirk my duty in any matter. Shall we, JD?”

“Uh, yeah,” he managed. What was goin’ on here?

*****

JD and Ezra had been out of town before Gunderman and traveled to his property at a smart pace that, thankfully, left little room for conversation. They’d approached the rocks carefully, but it hadn’t mattered. There clearly had been people camped here as early as that morning — the blackened cinders where the fire had been still oozed smoke when stirred — but it was as clearly abandoned now.

They examined the site for a little while, though JD wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to be looking for, before Ezra straightened with a sound of disgust. “This is a waste of time,” he announced. “While I am certain our estimable Mr. Tanner could inform us of how many men there were, what they ate for breakfast, whether their intentions were benign and which of them rode a buckskin mare, all I know is that people stayed here, and they are no longer present.”

“That why you argued with Chris?” JD offered hesitantly, not sure at all that he wanted to bring up Chris’s name but genuinely curious as to why Ezra acted the way he did and wanting some kind of explanation for the difference between what he knew, what he saw every day, and what he’d seen the night before. “’Cause you thought Vin would be a better choice?”

Ezra muttered something and then he smiled. It was not a nice smile. “No,” he said. “I argue with Mr. Larabee for many reasons: because he should be argued with; because it is one of the few pleasures afforded me in this backwater; and of course, in the all-important interest of maintaining appearances. ...Did you enjoy your midnight stroll last night?”

JD nearly swallowed his own tongue. “What — I don’t know what you mean.”

Ezra stepped closer, and JD wasn’t quite certain why he felt threatened — Ezra didn’t even look angry: bored, if anything — but he did. “You are an appallingly bad liar; please refrain from doing me the discourtesy of thinking I am too stupid to be able to tell.”

JD felt his eyes go wide. “I didn’t mean to see anything!” he said plaintively. “I wish I _hadn’t_.”

“And just what _did_ you see that you so regret? Clearly, with you blushin’ like a virgin on her wedding night, it was more than simply two people entering or exiting the jail. Which does raise the question of how one _inadvertently_ , in the middle of the night, sees within a dimly lit building with the door closed — that must have been an interesting accident indeed, and a story which I look forward to hearing one day — but for now if you would answer the question, please?”

“I ... which question was that?” JD hated knowing he sounded stupid, but the panic of having been found out and actually having to _talk_ about this — with _Ezra!_ — had his thoughts spinning every which way.

Ezra looked annoyed. “What did you see?”

“Oh. Oh, um.” JD was pretty sure it was impossible to burst into fire from the heat of your own embarrassment, but right at that moment he almost wished he would. “I saw you an’ .... an’ Chris, goin’ into the jail, but I didn’t know it was you at first! That’s why I hadta go look! And then I didn’t know _what_ was goin’ on, or why Chris was lettin’ you lock him up, and then....” He trailed off, knowing there was no way he could say what he’d seen — or heard — next.

“Thank you, Mister Dunne, but I was there. I do not require further detail. ... You spied on us the whole time then?”

“I wasn’t spyin’! I was just ... I mean, I couldn’t hardly ... an’ _no._ I left when, uh.” JD was so embarrassed and angry he could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “When you went in the cell too,” he finally stammered out accusingly.

“I see,” Ezra said. And that’s _all_ he said. He just stood there, looking at JD like he was waiting for something. Or deciding something. Either way, JD didn’t much like it.

It was too much. His churning emotions boiled over and he stepped forward abruptly, shoving Ezra with both hands. “Oh yeah? Well I saw too. More’n I ever wanted to. An’ I’m not the one who’s doin’ something wrong.”

There was a flash of something in Ezra’s eyes as he stumbled back, and then they went cold and hard as glass. “Ignorant and puritanical pronouncements aside, what do you intend to do about it?” he snapped.

“Do about it?” JD’s eyebrows drew together.

“If I am, indeed, ‘doing something wrong,’” Ezra clarified. “Would you see me ... punished for my transgressions?”

JD gaped at him. “What’re you _talking_ about? It don’t make sense, an’ I wish I didn’t know anything about it, an’ I don’t know why you don’t just find a girl instead of ... but _hell,_ Ezra! No!”

Ezra frowned, lookin’ perplexed, his eyes flickering rapidly back and forth over JD’s. Then he dropped his gaze with a shake of his head and a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Dunne.”

JD scowled. “I still don’t see why you gotta ...”

“And you probably never will,” Ezra cut him off smoothly. “The important matter here is that no one else finds out.”

“What would I wanna _tell_ anyone for?” JD blurted incredulously.

He thought Ezra was maybe biting back a smile. “Any number of reasons: that sometimes admirable, driving curiosity of yours, perhaps dropping ... subtle hints to Buck in hopes that he might be able to explain something you find so mystifying. Or the desire to share something truly scandalous with Miss Wells.”

“I wouldn’t,” JD muttered. No way he could say anythin’ like that to Casey even if she was always tryin’ to get secrets outta him. But shoot. He was willing to bet Buck _could_ have made all this make sense. He wouldn’t have used names or anything! Or even Josiah. He knew about all sorts of things. But he couldn’t very well so much as _hint_ now that Ezra’d said so.

“I do not doubt your trustworthiness, JD. However ... if I may be so direct as to mention it ... if you cannot so much as look at the jail, questions are bound to arise.”

“Hell, Ezra! I can’t help that! I just ...”

He remembered Ezra last night, leanin’ against the desk and showin’ off for Chris. It still didn’t seem possible that _that_ Ezra and the one he was talkin’ to were the same person.

 _They ain’t,_ he suddenly realized. _No more’n_ that _Ezra was the same one that looked at Chris with that expression on his face ... like Chris was the best damn’ thing in the world, like there wasn’t nothin’ he wouldn’t do ...._ JD remembered his own thoughts from the night before. Like _he_ felt sometimes when he thought about Casey.

“JD?” Ezra sounded patient in that way that meant he wasn’t.

It was still uncomfortable. He still felt all tangled up inside, and maybe more than a little angry, even if he wasn’t sure who he was angry at anymore. He felt like maybe he’d been cheated out of somethin’, though he couldn’t say what. He looked over at Ezra and met his eyes straight. “I think it’s okay, Ezra.”

Ezra raised one eyebrow. “And why is that?”

JD shrugged uncomfortably, not sure he even knew, much less how to explain it. “You ... like him,” he said quietly, feeling foolish even as it left his mouth.

But Ezra looked surprised, and then thoughtful. Then he suddenly just looked like Ezra as he squinted up at the sun and made a face. “I suggest, then, that we return with our meager intelligence and endeavor to spend our evening in a more profitable manner than this.”

JD’s jaw cracked in a yawn. “Not me, Ezra. This evenin’, I’m gonna _sleep_.”


End file.
